


"Timothy"

by Kelly_Namikaze



Category: Original Work
Genre: Family Secrets, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 10:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13029342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelly_Namikaze/pseuds/Kelly_Namikaze
Summary: I was in a chair.Actually, I was tied to one, but that's not important.Hello. My name is Desmond Andrews.





	"Timothy"

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first original work of this site! I've had this one banging around in my head for quite a while now, so here's the first bit. The other parts are longer, the intro kinda needed to be done on it's own.

I was in a chair.

Actually, I was tied to one, but that's not important.

Hello. My name is Desmond Andrews. I live in a quaint town just outside of Winnipeg. If you don't know where that is, don't worry, not many do. I have four siblings. An older brother and sister, as well as two younger brothers, all adopted. I'm my dad's only biological kid, but I live with my mom. Or lived. I think that's an appropriate introduction, let's return to the matter at hand, yes?

Where were we? Ah, yes, the chair.

Well, not only was I tied to a chair, but that chair was also dangerously close to a twenty story drop to pavement. When I heard the door to the roof open, I glanced upwards.

“Ah Timothy, isn't it such a beautiful night? So romantic, the city.” It was a man, a familiar one at that. Warren Turner grinned sleazily at me, and I wanted to puke. “Why don't you join me, Tim? I could make you one of the most powerful people on the planet. All you have to do is say yes.” He walked towards me, and my nose wrinkled at the overpowering cologne that assaulted me.

I laughed, before realizing that his men must have hit me harder than I thought, because my ribs screamed at the movement. “In your sick, sadistic dreams, you tool.” I told him, spitting at his outstretched hand. He pulled it back, and I smirked at his disgusted expression.

“Such a pity, you would’ve made such a nice pet. Well, I suppose that it can’t be helped.” He made a gesture with his hands and men, presumably his guards, stepped out of the shadows. “Boys, if you would.”

“Of course, wouldn’t want you to sully your _delicate_ hands.” I drawled, laying the sarcasm on thick.

The guards neared me as I tried to prevent my fear from showing on my face. I glared at them as they grabbed my chair, before tipping it over the edge.

There was only one thing to say. "Well shit."


End file.
